So Much More
by morgarita
Summary: A series of oneshots centering around Shane and Mitchie's relationship. ShaneMitchie
1. One

**heyyy :)  
so i got this brain blast when i saw the full video for play my music.  
basically, this is my version of what happens when mitchie walks up to shane when he's sitting at the canoes.  
(youtube the full video and it comes at like 1:34 or something.)  
**

**this is just what i would have happen. but hey, since i don't own it, i can still imagine (:  
**

**enjoy!**

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I'm supposed to be heading to the kitchen to help my mom with something "important", but instead, I'm headed the opposite way. Because quite honestly, I'm not in the mood to chop or sizzle or fry or anything to do with preparing food. I wander off the beaten path and into a not-so-beaten one in the woods. Making my way through trees, I poke sticks out of the way with my foot before I emerge on the lake shore, far off from where anybody would be. I look around, and the only thing that inhabits this part of shore are a few canoes to my left and the boathouse. When I walk further into the sand and closer to the cool water, I notice a sudden movement to my left. I look over and see a very familiar head of hair just above a green canoe; smiling, I make my way over slowly.

"Everytime I'm close..." the boy trails off, chewing on the tip of his pencil before moving the yellow wood back down to the pad of paper in his lap. A cool breeze overcomes us and I stop a few feet away, digging my hands further into my pink hoodie. His hair blows to his left, but he flicks it back before it can move too much. I smile when his voice picks up again. "Everytime I think I'm close... everytime I think I'm close to the heart. Heart!"

I swear I can hear him smile, and I can't stop myself when a smile comes across my own face. His hand moves back to the pad and after a long pause, he picks up the song again.

"Everytime I think I'm close to the heart, what it means... what it means," his hand instinctively moves to his chin; a movement I'm so used to. "What it means to know just who I am..."

This song is genuis, and I love it already. I sink to my knees; not to hide, just to listen... without him knowing.

"I think I've finally found a better place... heart," he whispers. His left hand moves through his hair, and he's frustrated, but he hasn't lost his train of thought completely yet. I can practically read his mind; _What rhymes with heart? Start!_ At the time I think it, he says it. "I think I've finally found a better place to start."

The hand moves to the paper again, and I smile; he's doing so well, and I can't help but be proud of him.

"Where no one ever seems to understand." I can tell he likes it, and he tries it out again, and the next part just rolls off his tongue and onto the paper. I can't help but be jealous; I can write songs, sure, but not like this. His soft voice fills the air and I get chills. "I've think I've finally found a better place to start. Where no one ever seems to understand, I need to try to get to where you are. Could it be you're not that far?"

I wonder who he's singing about; I can't help it. Singers always have someone to sing about, and writers always have someone to write about, and the thought crosses my mind that it may be me. My heart skips a beat. I love the feeling he gives me; my heart slows but fastens at the same time. Amazing. He takes a breath, and this time, he full on sings.

"You're the voice I hear inside my head, the reason that I'm singin', I need to find you," his voice drops to a song-like whisper. "I gotta find you."

I can tell he's finished, because he sets the pad down next to him and I decide this is the perfect time to go to him. Standing up, I pull my hands out of my pockets and run over, bracing myself against the red canoe he's leaning on.

"Whatcha workin' on, rockstar?" I say slyly. My hands slip down into my pockets again, and I smile at him when he turns to meet my eyes. When he realizes it's me, he blushes.

"Mitchie - I, uh, I didn't know anybody was around," he tells me. I laugh. "It's not funny! That's embarrassing!"

"Shane," I say, looking him dead in the eyes as he turns around completely. Reaching out, I wrap my arms around his neck from across the canoe and he instictively pulls me as close as he can with the canoe between us. My nose is met with the sexy, fiery scent I can never get enough of and his forehead drops to meet mine. "I heard you singing."

"You heard?" His nose is tickling mine, and I nod against his face. "God, that's embarrassing."

"Why?" I ask, hitting his chest playfully. "You can't even let your own girlfriend in on a song?"

"Mitchie," he says, dead serious. This catches my attention, and I look up. "It's more than that."

"What do you - what are you talking about?"

"I heard you singing in the rehearsal room; when you thought nobody else was around, remember that? It drove me crazy for weeks, 'cause I went in there, and you weren't there, and I didn't know how to find you. And when I heard you sing, that first day of rehearsals, I knew. And I was so glad, Mitchie, that it was you that was the voice inside my head. 'Cause you still are. Hence... you know, the song," he says the last part bashfully. All of a sudden, I can't breathe; I can't move. Shane Grey just wrote a song for me. I drove Shane Grey crazy - not even on purpose! All I can do is manage to sit there, mouth agape, like a moron. "Oh, God. I shouldn't have told you. Now you think I'm some sort of creep for thinking about you so much when I didn't even know you. Mitchie, I'm so-"

I put my finger on his lips as I say, "Shane, you talk too much. You really wrote that for me?"

He nods silently. I sit there in awe.

"Why - "

"Why would I write that for you? Mitchie, are you crazy?" He stands and pulls me with him, wrapping his strong arms around my waist. Burying my head in his chest, I close my eyes. Shane gently drops a kiss to the top of my head, just above my bangs before he pushes me back and holds me at arms length. For the first time, I realize he has to bend down to get to eye contact. He speaks softly. "Mitchie, do you know how amazing you are?"

"What?"

"Mitchie Torres," he says quietly. "You are the most amazing girl I've ever met."

"But I'm just Mitchie," I remind him quietly. "I'm told so all the time."

He gently lifts my chin with his hand, forcing me to look into his eyes.

"Who told you that? Tess?" he demands quietly. I nod. He pulls me closer, and murmurs in my ear, "Oh, Mitch. You're so much more than just Mitchie. You're _my _Mitchie."

I try to pull away to look at him, but his arms engulf me tighter and I don't fight it. Relaxing in his embrace, I close my eyes.

"You'll always be so much more than _just _Mitchie," he tells me again, face still in my hair. "And don't let anyone tell you differently."

I pull away, and he lets me. When I look up at him, my heart is filled with adoration for the boy looking down at me. Standing on my tiptoes, I silently press my lips to his. Not a word is said, but none need to be. All of a sudden, nothing else matters - not Tess, not the camp competition, nothing. All I need - all I'll ever need - is right here.

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**so, i personally liked it.  
what are your thoughts?  
please, review and leave them :)  
see you next time! xo morgan**


	2. Two

**hi, welcome back :)  
no longer a one shot, yay!**

**this is just my take on the scene from the commercial or music video (i don't really remember, ha ha) from when mitchie and caitlin are dancing together. it looked like mitchie had on a boy's scarf, so i came up with this. if i owned it, (which i don't!!) this is how it would go.  
enjoy!**

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"No way! Mitch, get over here!" I look up from folding up the blanket still sitting in front of the Beach Jam stage where we left it at the beginning of camp (I couldn't find it, and it was driving me crazy!) to see Caitlin yelling and waving her arms like a maniac at me. Her face grows more frantic, and she yells at me again. "Mitchie, I'm serious! Get over here!"

I shrug and slide my flip flops off my feet and place them on the folded blanket and wince as I walk over the pinestraw and onto the sand. _Much better_.

"What do you want, Caitlin? You look like you're going crazy!" Walking a little faster, I meet up with her halfway and place her arms down by her sides. "People may see you. Especially Nate!"

"God, Mitchie! Every girl in _America_ is in love with Connect Three. I heard that one girl here is in love with Shane... and she's not that far away." I just roll my eyes as she blushes and pushes me to the left a little bit as she leads me to what she so frantically needs me to see. Caitlin ends up leading me to a place a little bit down the beach, near the canoes. My heart skips a beat, because this is the place where I realized what exactly I needed this summer; I realized that nothing else mattered but Shane, Caitlin, and the summer - not the camp competition, not Tess. And it was here that Shane made me realize it. She is still tugging on my arm, to the point that it hurts.

"What do you want me to see? It's just a beach," I claim my arm back and she just points a pile of hoodies and scarves with a pair of sunglasses sitting on top of it all just down the beach. We stand there like morons, not sure what to do.

"They're.. _theirs!_" she hisses at me, not taking her eyes off the discarded and left behind clothing. Her elbow finds my side. I saw Shane and his band mates practicing here earlier; it's where they come to just get away. Usually it's just Shane by himself, occasionally with me or his band mates, parked between the green canoes where no one can see. I would know that scarf and those sunglasses anywhere; the scarf, black and white, he's worn so many times, it probably permanently smells like him. The sunglasses, I can proudly say I've worn in his cabin, when we make idiots out of ourselves while no one's watching.

"So what?" I turn to her. Hesitating inside, I silently pray I seem calm and collected. "They're just normal people, who just left their clothes somewhere. They forgot them. We do it all the time, Caitlin!"

"Well then," she turns back to me, and her eyes have a glint of mischief in them. "Why don't you go and put it on? I dare you."

I've worn them so many times, I shouldn't be afraid to. But I haven't told Caitlin the whole story of Shane and I, and I don't want to look too comfortable putting them on. So instead, I stand there stupidly, just looking at the pile.

"Oh, come on," she takes hold of my arm again and drags us closer.

"I dare **you**to put something on," I tell her. Caitlin simply smiles. Always being the one to cross the line, she steps bravely toward the pile and grabs Nate's green hoodie and Jason's hat. The weather gets super hot here, which explains the losing of the clothes. I can't help but glance around nervously and laugh out loud when I turn back to her; Jason's hat is perched atop her brunette locks and Nate's hoodie is engulfing her arms. She's hot, I can tell, because she rolls up the sleeves of the hoodie and looks to me, spreading her arms.

"Your turn," she says slyly, waggling a finger in my direction. I promised myself that this summer, I would do something totally un-Mitchie like. So instead of standing there stupidly, I step forward with nervous steps and she reaches out and takes claim of my arm once again. "Come **on**!" Caitlin tugs me and I land on my knees, glaring up at her.

"I hate you." She looks back at me sheepishly.

"Sorry." I simply smile and stand back up. She gently nudges me closer with her shoulder. "Go on..."

I walk close and tentatively pick up Shane's scarf and wrap it around my neck hesitantly. My nostrils are filled with the fiery scent of his cologne and my mouth is overcome with the taste of cinnamon. With a surge of confidence (a boyfriend's clothing can do that to you!), I grab the sunglasses and place them on the bridge of my nose. My bangs cover some of them and I shrug and smile at Caitlin as if to say, _What now_?

"What now," she says to me, as if reading my mind. "Is we dance."

I crack a smile as big as my face and we both break out into dance, arms flinging and hips shaking. We both freeze when we hear footsteps in the woods to our right.

"Shit!" Caitlin curses. "Shit shit!"

We scramble to get out of the clothes and I'm trying to rearrange them into the specific order they were left in and look up to find Caitlin gone. All that's left behind is Nate's hoodie and Jason's hat on the soft sand.

"Damn it, Caitlin!" I scurry around, making sure it's perfect. My hands are sweaty and shaky - I cannot get caught, I cannot. My back to the woods, I am bent over still rearranging when I hear a voice behind me.

"What, may I ask, was that?" My heart drops and I turn around to see Shane, leaning against a tree, wearing a cocky smile on his face.

"Jesus!" I place my hand on my chest as my heart starts again. "Don't do that!"

A sexy laughs erupts from his throat as he walks toward me. Instinctively, his arms find my waist and his face finds my shoulder.

"That was the cutest thing I've ever seen," he says into my neck. I feel him smile against my skin and I can't help but smile too.

"Sorry," I say sheepishly. "We were gonna give 'em back. We just got sorta sidetracked..."

Pulling away, he looks at me, smiling. He bends down, eyes never leaving mine, and grabs his scarf and wraps it back around my neck.

"Why?"

"Why what?" I say back, confused.

"Why were you gonna give it back?"

"Because, rockstar, it's your scarf and sunglasses." I tell him. "And I was gonna make Caitlin give Nate's and Jason's stuff back, too, I swear!" I finish quickly.

"You don't have to give it back," he smiles at me as he ties the scarf around my neck. My eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Seeing as how you're my girlfriend, and my best friend, and everything else that I can't think of right now, I want you to have it."

"Really?" My eyes widen and I smile again.

"Really. On one condition," he says, eyes shining and mouth smirking.

"Oh, boy." I state simply, looking at him. He breaks into a full smile when he tells me his negotiation deal.

"Dance for me again."

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**there you go :)  
simple and sweet.**

**leave your thoughts, please!  
see you next time :)**

**xo morgan**


	3. Three

**hey, welcome back :)  
for the disclaimer, see the first oneshot.**

**enjoy!**

* * *

The incredible heat beats down on my near bare back as Shane has a firm hold of my hand and we run through the woods to his cabin. I shriek with joy and scream with laughter as our feet nearly fly over the pointy pinestraw.

"Shane! Shane, slow down!" I yell between laughs and shrieks. Everybody has classes, but the camp has oh-so-cleverly arranged it to where my kitchen duty is at the same time everybody - **everybody** - has classes; so I go swimming every day that I don't have to work. It's Shane's free time, too, so sometimes he joins me. He oh so graciously offered to help me with the sizzling and chopping I was supposed to be doing, but my mom sent me out ("Go have fun, it's your summer break! I'll call you when I need you!"), and here we are. Shane turns to look at me out of the corner of his eye, his hand still in mine.

"Mmm, I don't think so, Torres! You gotta keep up!" I laugh again as he leads me to his cabin. Up the stairs we go when I fall.

"Ah, shit!"

"Mitchie!" Shane stops dead and turns around, rushing back down the stairs of his cabin between us. My hand is throbbing and my wrist is swelling. I have to grit my teeth to fight back tears. "Mitchie, are you okay?!"

I look up at him and force a smile. "Of course I'm okay, silly," I say, shaking my head. My bangs are hanging over his sunglasses and my hair hits my tan line that's exposed by my bikini top. The pain is incredible, but I don't want him to know that.

"No you're not, Mitch," he says, concern filling his brown eyes. "Come on, let's get you to the infirmary."

"I'm fine, Shane, I'm fine!"

"Mitchie," he warns. I silence and allow him to lead me... not down, but up, into his cabin. Pulling open the screen door, he gently pulls me inside, where he proceeds to sit me on his bed and gingerly place my swollen wrist against his pillow. God, his pillow even smells like him! He stutters as he says, "Let me just.. j-just get you something to change into."

"Shane," I say calmly, shaking my head. My heart skips a beat when he looks back at me; an involuntary reaction. "I promise, I'm fine. And besides, these are your clothes. The people at the infirmary would probably get the wrong idea if I showed up in your clothes... if you know what I mean."

The wheels are turning in his head as he thinks it over before he nods.

"I guess you're right," he tells me. I smile happily; if anything has been learned in this relationship, it's that I'm always right. Shane... well, he's just Shane. Nothing else to it. "But let me at least get you a t-shirt."

I can't help but agree, and he moves to his suitcase and moves some stuff around inside before grabbing a plain blue t-shirt. Handing it to me, he goes once more into the black hole he calls a suitcase, emerging with a pair of black Adidas shorts. Crinkling my eyebrows, I frown at him.

"You need to change completely. And I would give you panties and a bra, but you know me. I left mine at home."

I crack a smile and momentarily forget about the pain when I reach out to grab them.

"Ah!" My left hand immediately grasps my wrist and I wince. "God, it hurts."

"Lemme see here. Doctor Shane Grey to the rescue," he takes my hand gently and examines the swelling. Shane looks up at me, meeting my eyes. "Can you move it at all?"

His right wrist moves in a circle, indicating that this is what he wants me to do.

"Shane, I don't want to."

"Mitchie, try," he says, dropping a kiss to my forehead. "Try for me, Mitch."

I do as he says, and the tears that have been threatening to spill over do. My good hand goes to move them away and I laugh sheepishly and hiccup.

"Ever broken a bone?" he says seriously. I shake my head no, expecting the worst. "Well congratulations, kiddo."

"God, you must think I'm such a baby," I tell him between hiccups.

"Oh, Mitchie," he says, catching my tears with his thumb. I can see the slight glimmer of silver brought on by his purity ring from the corner of my eye. "I know it hurts, baby. Come on, I'll help you change."

"Um, I don't think so!" I feign mock offense and a smile graces his features.

"Oh, come on," Shane says, helping me up by my good hand. His arms sneak around my waist and he smiles down at me. "I promise I won't peek."

"Shane Gr- "

"Mitchie, you can't get your clothes off like that," he points to my now completely swollen and bruised wrist. The sight of it scares me, which makes me cry more. Once again, his thumb comes to the rescue before he places a soft kiss to my lips. "Come on, let me help you."

I nod slightly as my left hand reaches back to try and untie my bathing suit top. When I can't reach it, Shane unties it for me and places a soft kiss to the back of my neck.

"Can you get the other tie?" I ask, jerking my head backwards in an attempt to show him the second tie around my back when I feel my head collide with his. Shane reels backwards, hand over face.

"Ow, Mitchie!"

"Oh, God," I say. His shoulders are shaking. "I'm so sorry, Shane!"

When he looks up, I see he is silently laughing. He beckons to my top. "Come on, let me finish."

We successfully get it off and he stands behind me as he places his blue t-shirt that smells like Bounce on my torso. It hits me mid-thigh, and that's when I realize that he has to help me get my bottoms off.

"Um, do you want me to..."

"I need you to," I say. He nods and moves in front of me as his thumbs hook the inside of my bottoms through the t-shirt. Thankfully, all of me is covered as he slowly slides them down my legs. I kick them off and beckon to his shorts. "Can you help me with those?"

"Mitchie, you bad girl," he says jokingly. I just smile gently, tears gone. Shane grabs the shorts and helps me step into them. He's sliding them up my calves when his hands grace the back of my knees; just barely, but enough to make me jerk. My knee collides with his crotch, sending him reeling backwards again.

"Oh, my God, Shane!" I manage to hike up the shorts with one hand and rush over to him, where he's on the floor in the fetal position. I panic. "Oh, God, Shane, you must think I'm a total freak! I swear to God I understand if you nev-"

"Mitchie, come on, it's alright," he says, but he sounds strange. I rush around, grabbing my bathing suit and placing his sunglasses on his pillow, ignoring the pain.

"Oh, God, you must think I'm such an idiot! I am so sorry!" I blubber to the point where neither of us know what I'm saying; it's that strung together. I stop when he places a kiss on my lips once again and I smile into it when the sparks go off. We pull away, and he places his fingers to his lips.

"God, how do sparks fly in this situation?" I just laugh and shake my head. Reaching up, I feel the knot that's already forming on his forehead, just above his right eyebrow. "Oh, trust me, that's not the only knot that's forming."

I look at him and my eyes water all over again and he panics.

"Oh, Mitchie, no, I didn't mean it, I was just kidding!" Shane says frantically, wrapping me in a hug. "Come on, let's go the infirmary before anything else can happen."

I simply nod and let him lead me out of his cabin and down the trail. We pass the kitchen and I see the figure of my mom washing dishes through the window. The infirmary is right down the trail when Shane falls.

"Oh good God," I say, helping him up as best I can. "Can anything else go wrong?"

"Probably," Shane says to me, nodding. "But let's get there before it can; what do you say?"

He takes my hand in his again and pushes open the cold metal door that leads into the infirmary. The nurse looks up at Shane and I.

"Can I help you?" She seems so bored, I can't help but feel sorry for her.

"Yeah, Mitchie broke her wrist, I think," Shane tells her. I cast a look down and blush.

"Let's see it, Mitchie." I walk over and show her my wrist and she immediately sucks in a breath and tells me to sit down on the bed to our left. We do as told and she comes back with ACE bandage. "It's not broken, but it's pretty badly sprained. You'll need to keep the bandage on for about two or three weeks. If it's not better, we need to get you an x-ray."

My eyes widen and Shane grips my hand calmly. I look up at him and when he smiles down at me, I automatically feel relaxed. As I wince and squeeze my boyfriend's hand, the nurse wraps my wrist slowly but surely.

"Let me just go document this," she tells me, walking away. She yells at me from the next room. "Torres, right?"

"Yes," Shane says at the same time I do. Our eyes meet and we both burst into fits of laughter at the same time. I run a hand through my matted hair in an attempt to smooth it from the lake water that evaporated. When I look at Shane and back to my wrist, we peel into more laughter.

"God, who can screw up such a simple thing as running up stairs?!" I say once we've calmed down.

"And then sprain a wrist doing it?" We crack up again.

"At least you didn't hurt me twice!" I tell him.

"You did do a number on Freddie," he agrees sheepishly as he smiles.

"Ew, you are so gross! I do not need to the names of your man parts!"

"What? Freddie's my forehead!" This cracks me up again, and the nurse comes back in with a sharpie pen and a sheet of paper to excuse me from dance.

"I don't want you to go to dance, you could do another number on that wrist," she says in a monotone voice. I nod and take the pen and paper from her. She leaves again, leaving us alone. Shane gently takes the pen, turns my arm to where the bottom of my wrist is exposed, and gets ready to write on the bandage.

"Shane, it'll bleed through! I don't want your name tattooed to my wrist once the bandage comes off!" My remark earns a smirk.

"You're the only one," he tells me cockily. Despite my protests, the pen is pressed firmly into the bandage, on the bottom side of my wrist. "Don't read this 'til I'm done!"

I turn away and smile as he writes on the oversized, overrated bandaid.

"You're free to go," the nurse says. "The classes are about to end anyway."

We say our thanks and leave hand in hand and decide to stop by the kitchen.

"Mitchie!" my mom yells, coming toward us. "Shane!"

"Hey, mom," I say. She notices the knot on his forehead and the bandage on my wrist.

"What did you two do?!" We look at each other and laugh.

"Long story," Shane says. "Do you need any help?"

"Actually, I do need some help chopping these onions. And boy, I sure did a number on those potatoes." At the mention of "doing a number", Shane and I burst into hysterics all over again. She gives us a wierd look before handing Shane a knife and me a dish rag ("You can still dry dishes, missy."). We get started on our jobs when I can't resist reading the purple ink on the bandage on the underside of my wrist. The handwriting is small but messy, and the ink is purple.

_You could do a number on any part of me, and I'd still love you. Love, Shane_.

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**just some fluff :)  
oh, the oneshots aren't neccessarily related, so in the next one, her wrist isn't broken. just to clear things up.**

**leave your thoughts!  
see you next time (:**


	4. Four

**good to see you again.  
i'm totally taking a chance with this one.  
see you at the bottom :)**

**here's another one, enjoy!  
(for disclaimer, see the first oneshot.)**

* * *

"Don't you even dare touch me, Shane Grey."

"Mitchie, I-"

"Shane Grey," I warn him slowly.

"Sorry, Mitchie."

"Now if you excuse me, I have some work to do," I tell him. Unbelievable; I turn my back on the kid for an hour and he's all over Tess. But it was her, of course ("Shane Grey does no wrong."). "Don't bother me again."

I trun on my heel and march back into the kitchen, where I left the pile of potatoes that I was in the middle of peeling.

"Who was that, Mitchie?" I turn and see Rosa. Easily in her mid fifties, it doesn't surprise me that she doesn't know who Shane - much less Nate and Jason - is. Rolling my eyes, I turn back to the task at hand.

"Don't worry about it. When it matters, I'll let you know," I am furious, and the peeler shows it. Running it over the brown skin of the not so appetizing potato, I watch in satisfaction as it tumbles onto the steel counter. She seems surprised. Her mouth opens but closes again as she turns back to making the tacos.

**...**

The next couple of weeks are akward and strictly mechanical. During class, I can see Shane looking at me out of the corner of my eye as I belt out my solo for We Rock. I'm sure to not acknowledge his not-so-subtle glances.

"Alright, good work today," I hear Shane say as he reaches out to turn the stereo off. My heart is racing and my breath is just fast - today was more challenging than normal. Plus, it didn't help that I knew I was being watched. We all walk away from our positions to gather our stuff. "Mitchie, can I see you after class for a minute?"

My head shoots up from where Caitlin and I are guzzling water. She glances at me and I motion for her to go on with me. Fingering my ponytail, I wait for everyone to go (but not without recieving a few looks from Tess) before I cautiously make my way over to the black stereo, where Shane is waiting for me.

"I don't bite."

"You sure about that?" I say rudely, my eyebrows rising beneath my bangs. His face falls, but he quickly covers it up ("Rock stars aren't supposed to get attatched" Nate warned me). When his mouth opens, I cut him off. "Save it, Shane, 'k? I don't wanna hear it. What I should be hearing is my own voice and I should be working my ass off for this competition."

"What happened to it doesn't matter?"

"You happened. We happened. And then we didn't." He moves to reach for me. "Anything else I can do for you?" I ask coolly, stepping out of his reach.

"Mitch, come on!" Caitlin is standing there expectantly. Her gaze ices over when her eyes meet Shane's. "Shane."

"Caitlin," he says, rolling his eyes. She does the same and beckons for me. He speaks and regret laces his voice when he turns back to me. "No, Mitchie, you can go."

**...**

A few days pass, and as hard as I try, I can't get Shane from my mind.

"Blue icing," I say mechanically to Rose. She hands it to my mom, who in turn hands it to me. Getting back to the task at hand, I lather the cupcakes with it for movie night tonight and sing my solo softly under my breath when someone clears their throat in the doorway. When I look up, Shane is there. My face flushes when he walks over and swiftly grabs a cupcake. "Don't!" I hiss, grabbing for it. He gives it back and I set it down not-so-gently on the pan.

"Mitchie, give it to him!" my mom says, walking over. "Growing boys need nutrition!"

"Yeah, Mitchie," Shane says, meeting my eyes. He pats his stomach. "Growing boys need nutrition. And I've got to maintain this physique somehow."

"Who's your friend?" she asks.

"Nobo-" I'm interrupted by him as he grabs the cupcake back.

"Shane Grey," he says cockily. One of his fingers dips into the blue icing and he brings it to his mouth in one swift motion, making a popping noise when he brings it out, clean as a whistle. "But I'm sure even the kitchen help knows that."

My jaw hits the floor, as does my mother's and Rose's.

"Well," Rose says, clearing her throat. "Let's give them some privacy, Connie."

"No!" I say quickly, my arms outstretched to stop my mother from going anywhere. She gives me a wierd look and Shane just smirks. Even though he's behind me, I can tell he does. It's as though it's a kneejerk reaction for him. "No. We can go outside."

"Oh," she replies, confusion still etched in her face. "Okay... well, Shane, it was nice meeting you. Take that cupcake with you!"

"Will do, Mrs. Torres. Thank- oomph!" Shane doesn't get a chance to finish his scentence when I yank him by the shirt and down the mess hall steps.

"What do you think you're doing?!" I stop long enough to whirl around and point my finger in his face. "I told you not to ever bother me when I'm working ever again!"

"Mitchie, I -"

"Shane! Stop! Just leave alone! I saw you with Tess, okay? Just stop," the last part comes as a whisper.

"That's what's got you like this? Mitch," he tries to take me in his arms, but I just take a couple of steps backwards.

"I said don't touch me. Don't bother me."

"Mitchie, just hear me out," he pleads.

"You've got five."

"I swear it's - "

"Time's up."

"What?! Mitchie, that wasn't five minutes!"

"Oh, did I not mention you only get five seconds?" I say. I feel so stupid as I walk back toward the mess hall. Shane grabs my arm and pulls me back into his chest where I proceed to pound with all my might. Despite my attempts, his hand simply reaches out and grabs both my wrists calmly, kissing each one. I try not to give out in the knees, but I can't make any guarantees.

"I'm so sorry, Mitchie," he says genuinely. "I.. I missed you, so I went for the next best thing. It was really low, I know, but when she was all over me, I was pretending it was you!"

"B.S.," I say calmly.

"Please, can you just forgive me so we can get on with our lives?"

"Let me think about that... no." Shane simply nods and my mouth drops for the second time today when he turns and makes a clicking noise in his throat. "Are you- are you crying?" He whips around to face me.

"No, I'm not crying."

"Yes you are," I say calmly. "I can tell." He turns around again and the clicking ensues. Since my wrists are free, I calmly wrap them around his waist and turn him to me.

"You're touching me," he says with a hint of shock in his voice.

"I am," I tell him, smiling. There's something about the kid that can't make me stay mad at him. "Now let's go back and get you a cupcake."

"Mitchie!" he exclaims. I scream with laughter and try to run when he wraps his arms around my waist to no avail. My feet are a good foot off the ground and I am spinning around. "Mitchie, I missed you!" I am on the ground by this point and I reach for where he left the cupcake, sitting on a stump of a tree. When I have it, I calmly make my way back to the kitchen.

"Come on, rockstar," I call. "I'm way behind on the icing of the cakes of cups!"

"Mitchie, I missed you," he says again, stopping me.

"I know, rockstar," I say, taking him in my arms. "I missed you, too."

* * *

**...and they all lived happily ever after.**

**hey :)  
so i thought it was okay.  
...your turn!  
leave your thoughts, please!**


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